


Not Like Silk

by lalalalalawhy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hair Braiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalalalalawhy/pseuds/lalalalalawhy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Of course I know how to braid,” Han said, gently grabbing a chunk of her hair. After a few moments of fumbling, it became clear he didn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Like Silk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glorious_clio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_clio/gifts).



> ...who is also this work's beta, and inspiration. <3

_ “It is like... I don't know what. Not like silk. It is more like pouring water, only there is something cloudy about it too. The clouds are made of water, aren't they? Is it a pale mist, or a winter sea, or a hayrick in the frost? Yes, it is a hayrick, deep and soft and full of scent." _

_ \-- Lancelot, brushing Guenever's hair. The Once and Future King, T.H. White.  _

* * *

Leia walked out of the shower in her robe, toweling her hair dry. Her feet padded on the soft rugs she had placed in her temporary quarters on Endor. After all the commotion of the past couple days (the past couple years, really), she needed some time to step back and plan for what was to come next. The Ewoks had been happy to provide a private tree home, furnished with their finest handmade furniture.

She had given herself a month to figure out exactly how to begin to rebuild the fractured Galactic political system in a fair way. What of the old ways and founding documents they could still use and what was better left to the history books. She needed to shore up support in whatever remained of the Galactic Senate, bring the governments of the Outer Rim territories into the process, build alliances, figure out trading structures, build galactic rules and systems that could last, not just for now but in the long term. Plus, now there was to be a new Jedi Order to think about, and Luke had mentioned building a training facility. The prospect of navigating the politics of that while rebuilding a Galactic political system from the ground up was enough to stress anyone out.

But not today. Today was for relaxing. There hadn’t been much time to spare during the past few hectic months, and she was trying to take the time to reset. Today she had taken a shower and washed her hair, and her attention was on other things. Specifically one other thing. 

Person. One other person. She had invited him to stay with her, after all.

Han laid splayed out on the bed (he hadn’t even bothered to shuck off his boots), all limbs and hooded eyes and a smirk she found mostly endearing (and a tiny bit infuriating). 

“Hi,” he said, smiling truer now. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Are your eyes still sore?” she asked, half teasing and half genuinely concerned. Her eyes met his in the mirror as she sat down to comb out her hair. He had gone temporarily blind after his stint in Jabba’s carbonite custody.

“Well, less so now, Princess,” he said, smiling again. “I’m glad I can see again. Look at you.”

“Save it, flatterer,” she said, rolling her eyes and picking up the comb. She began to comb out her hair, which was still damp from the shower. “Compliments about my looks are not exactly the way to my heart.”

“No, I’m serious,” Han said, offended enough to haul himself out of bed. He walked up and stood behind her, hand hovering over her hair. He looked unsure of himself, and settled for resting a hand on her shoulder. “I could have been blind for the rest of my life and I would have gotten along okay, but I would miss your face.” She was almost surprised at the genuine feeling in his voice.

“You’re a pilot,” Leia said, only a little exasperated. “You’re not telling me you can pilot without your sight?”

“Hey, now, listen,” Han said, pointing a finger at her in the mirror. “You may be smarter than me, and better looking.” His tone suggested that she should be offended at this, but she couldn’t help the delighted color rising in her cheeks. She turned to look up at him and raised her eyebrows. 

His finger was now waving directly in her face. She raised her eyebrows at it and shot him a Look.

Han dropped his hand, and seemed surprised at himself. After a beat, the moment passed, and his finger came back out, waggling as hard as ever. “But there is one thing in this God-forsaken Galaxy that I can still run circles around you at, and it’s piloting my own damn ship. And I’d still be better at it blind.”

“Oh, so you have the Force now,” Leia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She dropped her comb a little abruptly and picked up a hair band.

He narrowed his eyes at her and shook is head. “No I do not have the Force, Princess,” he spat.

“Okay then, Miracle Worker,” she shot back. “How would you fly your scrap heap of a ship across the Galaxy without the use of your eyes?”

Han scoffed. She could almost see him struggling to come up with a comeback about his ship before giving up. “I’d do it by sound,” he said, smug.

“There’s no sound in space!” she yelled. 

“There is when you’ve got a Wookie hollering in your ear!” he yelled back, gesturing toward the door and, presumably, Chewbacca. “And last I checked, Chewie can see just fine.”

“Oh, a seeing-eye Wookie,” Leia said. “I can’t see anything going wrong with that plan.” She smiled in spite of herself. He could always make her laugh, even when she felt like throttling him. But she didn’t quite feel like throttling him right at this moment, even though it would probably do him a world of favor. 

She tilted her face up at him, and he took the hint.

They kissed for a long moment.

When they broke away, Han’s hand was in her hair, stroking it.

“May I?” he asked.

“Do you know how to braid?”

“Of course I know how to braid,” Han said scoffing. He gently grabbed a chunk of her hair. After a few moments of fumbling, it became clear he didn’t. 

“You said you knew how!” Leia said, eyes dancing, snatching her hair back from him.

“Well! I’ve never braided hair before. Rope isn’t usually this hard to hold,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. After a short beat, he once again laced his fingers in her hair, combing out any muss.

She stifled a snicker. “Here, I’ll teach you how to do an Alderaan braid.”

“I’m ready,” he said, hands on hips. What he lacked in braiding skill he made up for with determination, that’s for sure.

She divided a small section of her hair near her left temple into three pieces. “Okay,” she said, “take hold of the three sections of hair.”

“We’re going to have a problem,” he said, fumbling. 

“What is that?” 

“I only have two hands.”

She laughed. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

Sure enough, he did. It was slow going, but he listened as she described how to gather small sections of hair in with each section to make sure it held as it traveled across the crown of her head.

“It’s messy,” he said, a little dismayed. “And most of it’s still loose.”

“That’s okay,” she said, and took the sections of hair back from him. Her nimble fingers wove the remaining length of her hair into a quick braid. The braid acted as a headband, keeping her hair out of her face while most of it hung down around her hips. “I like it loose.”

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.”

“Is the hair thing an… Alderaan thing?”

“Sort of,” she said, and turned to face him. “My aunts always wanted me to do my hair in complex, regal styles, and I hated it. I wasn’t much of a proper princess, I’m afraid.” Han’s smirk was back. “I even cut my hair when I was little. They made me wear a wig until it grew back.”

She sighed. “But then I realized that there were certain things about it that were good, and eventually my aunts and I compromised.” She sat back, thinking. “You know, that was my first successful political negotiation.”

She tied off the braid and noticed that his fingers were still in her hair. He was watching it fall through his fingers, letting it cascade off of them. His eyes were intent.

“Have you never seen hair before?” Leia asked. “Are you finding the complex physics of hair follicles confusing?”

“What?” Han asked, offended. “Listen, lady. I can navigate a ship the size of a moon onto a landing strip the size of a pea. I’m not ‘confused’ about ‘physics.’” Her hair was still entwined in his fingers even as he mimed air quotes. “Your hair is… different.”

“Ah, then you’re marveling at your own clumsy hands?”

“Hey, watch whose hands you’re calling clumsy.” Han held his hands up, hair woven between each finger. “These hands have kept my baby in the air for longer than we’ve known each other.”

“Single-handedly?” Leia asked.

“Yes!”

Leia couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. “So you say your hands aren’t clumsy. Have you got any proof other than the mechanical?”

“Well, yeah.” Han’s hands hadn’t stopped running through her hair yet. “I can shoot a phaser faster than anyone this side of Tatooine.”

“So far your skill at engine maintenance and sharp shooting is failing to convince me that you aren’t clumsy.”

“That’s not all I can do with my hands,” Han said, meeting her gaze in the mirror. He gave her one of his coy smiles, managing to look up at her from under his eyelashes despite being a good deal taller. 

“All right, Gunslinger, why don’t you show me?” Leia asked, and stood up. 

Han raised his eyebrows, incredulous at first. Realization dawned, and he practically scampered over to the bed. Right as he was about to flop down, she raised her eyebrows and looked significantly at his boots.

“Right,” he said, hopping on one foot and then the other as he pulled them off. 

She watched him, smiling.  _ This could work, _ she thought to herself,  _ it really could. He drives me crazy, but… this could work. _ She watched as he collapsed on the bed, face up, hands behind his head, gazing at her with a come hither look on his face.

She undid the belt on her robe and climbed on top of him, knees around his hips. She leaned in and smoothed his hair back from his forehead.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Ours will be a great love story, sweetheart,” he said in earnest. 

She scoffed as she leaned in further, engulfing them both in the scent of Alderaan jasmine and Endor tea tree oil. “Don’t you know, Flyboy? All the greatest love stories end in tragedy.” As she leaned down to kiss him, her hair cascaded into curtains, shrouding their faces from the outside world. 

He pulled back and leaned up on one elbow, meeting her eyes. “Not mine,” he said, pointing with a thumb at his chest. “I fully intend to get old and happily die in the arms of a princess, surrounded by family.”

She laughed and put a hand on his chest, pushing him back down. “You’re a fool,” she said, “but you’re my fool.” 

She kissed him deeply. When they came up for air, she looked him in the eye. “May all your wishes come true.” 

* * *

Much later and very far away, with the hilt of a light saber piercing his chest, the corner of Han’s mouth quirked up at the thought of a fading memory. They'd both been sort of right.

As he fell, he smelled Alderaan jasmine and Endor tea tree oil. “I love you,” he said, maybe out loud.

Perhaps it was only the wish of a dying man, but across the void he heard a simple reply:

“I know.”


End file.
